Waiting SV
by Australias
Summary: Waiting, like it seemed she was forever destined to do, when it came to Michael Vaughn.


Title: Waiting  
  
Author: Australias  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Category: SV Angst  
  
Spoilers: Up to the Telling... everything after that is basically AU.BR  
  
Disclaimer: Alias and all its components belong to J.J.Abrams, Bad Robot and Touchstone Productions and the ABC Television Network.  
  
Summary: Waiting, like it seemed she was forever destined to do, when it came to Michael Vaughn.  
  
A/N: Muse-ic and recommended song is Evanescence's "Whisper".  
  
* * *  
  
Waiting  
  
She felt him sit down beside her before she saw him. That familiar feeling swept over her and she bowed her head, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall. She hated him, for this. For what he reduced her to. She was strong, she had to be, but she couldn't, for he was near and he weakened her resolve as she fought the feelings that she knew she shouldn't have.  
  
She wondered how he had found her. She wasn't at any of the places he remembered her to like. Those places were places she used to seek comfort, when she was who she used to be. But she's changed... time changed her, and now she was building a new list of places to hide. But he found her, like he always did, but this time she never told him, this time he just knew, and that scared her more.  
  
He didn't speak. He never did, waiting, instead, for her to speak. Always the gentleman, she had once thought, but now she knew, that he was just waiting for her to surrender, and she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. Not anymore. She was way past caring about his feelings when he obviously gave little regard for her own.  
  
And she wouldn't look, either. That would be, too, a surrender of sorts. She wanted to yell and scream, if only to break the silence that surrounded them, that always surrounded them. But time had changed that silence. And it had changed the both of them. No longer were they friends, lovers, sitting in comfortable silence. Now - two years from when and where and WHO they were - they are strangers, sitting, with space between them, blanketed by an awkward silence.  
  
A silence that was louder than the noise they could hear elsewhere. She felt him move, and she knew his gaze was upon her. She knew this because it burned, his gaze, and she knew he could see the scars that had yet to fade, and she knew he could see the wounds that had yet to heal, and she knew he could see her heart, broken, and her soul, crying out for salvation. Just as she knew he could see her fighting, even now, for composure, if only to assure herself that she was okay.  
  
He knew she wasn't. He knew this, because, he too, was hurting. There were no words, he knew, that could change the past. No words that could heal the pain. No words that could make her feel like it was okay, because it wasn't okay, it couldn't be okay and he doubted if it would ever be okay again. And he knew, deep down, that she still blamed her, and deeper down still, he knew that it was justified. He knew this because the guilt told him so.  
  
But he knew, too, that he couldn't change what happened. And God knows he tried. But the person that mattered most, who always mattered most, didn't know. Didn't understand. Didn't believe. Because she too had lost faith. What else did he expect, really? That she would come running back into his arms, with not a care in the world for the ring that encased his finger? With not a care in the world for what the ring symbolised and the reason he was wearing the ring in the first place? Was he that naïve? Or just plain stupid?  
  
She imagined him, leaning back against the bench, worry evident in the lines that furrowed his brow, his eyes closed in what she assumed to be in defeat and his hands clenched in an attempt to hide the gold band that separated them more definitely than the space between them on the bench. She wouldn't look, though, in fear of what she imagined wasn't what was reality. She didn't want him to be unhappy; she could never wish that on anybody, least of all the person she wished she didn't love. She just wanted him to say something to her, not even an apology, just something that recognised she was there. Waiting.  
  
Waiting, like it seemed she was forever destined to do, when it came to Michael Vaughn.  
  
It had been half an hour, and not a word was uttered, not a sound had passed between the two. Her shoulders sagged visibly and passer-by's would say that it was as though a great weight had suddenly fallen upon her shoulders. She would shake her head at that observation - the weight had merely increased.  
  
She sighed. Not loud enough for him to hear, of course. Because that in itself would be a surrender. But she was sick of this, sick of him waiting for her to do something when she knew that he hadn't waited long enough when it mattered most. He hadn't been so hesitant then, to move on, and now that she was here, he was content to wait all day, it seemed. And she wasn't going to wait for him, not anymore. She was sick of waiting.  
  
Her body moved before her mind decided it was going to, and when she stood she had no idea of where she was going to go or what she was going to do. She expected him to stop her and when he didn't say anything, her heart dropped and she was overcome with anger. She hated him for it, the effect he had on her. But she would never let him see that, not directly, though she knew he could tell what she was feeling, he could always tell, but before he was willing to do something about it, to make it better... now, though she wished for his comfort, he gave none, and instead she felt the tears fall from her eyes.  
  
She walked off, torn between wanting him to call out to her, and her herself turning around and running back to him. In the end it was he, who made the first move, and she felt his fingers curl gently around her elbow, the slight touch sending involuntary shivers down her spine and caused her heart to race. She turned, as he she would, so that she was facing him, their eyes connecting, more than just physically.  
  
"Syd," he whispered, his voice cracking on the single syllable. "Please, don't go. I just... I just need to be near you, that's all, to remind myself that its real, that your real."  
  
She lifted her hand, cursing herself as she was doing it, and ran her finger down the side of his face, letting it linger in the cleft of his chin, until the memories became too much and she let her hand fall beside her.  
  
"Vaughn, please don't do this. You know you can't, not now. Its different, we're different," she whispered, her voice saying one thing, but her heart and her eyes saying another.  
  
"Some things have changed, but some things have not. I'm not going to stand by, watching you self-destruct, knowing that I can't do anything," he answers desperately. He wants her to understand, to know that he still loves her, even if he can't utter the words.  
  
And she does, know, that he loves her. She knows this because she loves him too, and she knows that time could never change what they have. But he still wears the ring that binds him to another. And he's right, she realises, she is slowly breaking. Because she not who she was, because who she was had someone holding her up and making her stronger when she was weak, but though he's there, right in front of her, he is miles away.  
  
"That's just it, Vaughn. You say you want to help, but you're not. I know its not how it used to be... I know that it CAN'T be how it was, but I still need you. You said your were my ally. You said I could always talk to you. You said you were my guardian angel and that you would always be there to help me... but I'm falling, Vaughn, and you aren't there to catch me, you aren't there to pick up the pieces and make me whole. I call for you, and you don't answer!" she cries, the tears blurring her vision. But even through the tears she can sense his own, as he too, is crying for what they had, but lost.  
  
He doesn't answer, because he doesn't know what to say. He can't defend himself, because he could never lie to her, and he knows that what she speaks is the truth. And so he doesn't say anything at all, instead steps forward and takes her into his arms. She hesitates, at first, but it feels so good, so right, and so she relaxes, because this is where she belongs, after all.  
  
Minutes pass, while she seeks solace in his embrace, until she knows she should step away, so that he doesn't have to. She gently steps back, and lets her hands fall to his chest, where the steady beating of his heart reminds her that hers too beats in time, as it always did, in perfect synchronisation with his own.  
  
"Vaughn. I love you. You know I do. But I can't live like this anymore, because it hurts, every second we spend apart. There is no one else I can love, as much as I love you, but I can't wait, not anymore, watching you with Lauren when I know it should be me in your arms. And I'm sorry if I sound presumptuous, but that's the way I feel. And you're right, I am breaking apart without you, but you're not there, not when you're with her, and that's when I need you the most..." she trails off, hoping that he'll say what she longs to her.  
  
He pauses, and searches her eyes for some escape, but finds none, in the pain he sees there.  
  
"Syd. You know I love you. I always have, time can't change that, could never change the way I feel about you. But I'm married, Syd, I gave my word to Lauren, that I would always be there for her."  
  
"What about your promises to me? They mean nothing now? Because I'm dead, they suddenly; don't mean anything? Well I'm not dead, Vaughn... your word means nothing!" she cries, harder now, not wanting to accept what she knows he is going to say.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I really am."  
  
She shakes her head. "Well sorry is just not good enough," she chokes, as he bows his head.  
  
"I know its not, but it's the best I can do," he replies.  
  
She nods. And he looks up into her eyes and sees the pain gone, replaced by anger burning wildly in the brown depths. She steps forward and he flinches, almost convinced that she was going to strike him, though he knows he deserves it. Instead she pulls him towards her, letting her fingers fall to the base of his neck, and kisses him. Fireworks explode behind his closed eyes and he can't help but respond, and he deepens the kiss, letting his tongue tease her lips until she pulls away, leaving him wanting more.  
  
She smiles at his reaction. Because she knows he feels it too, the regret, already, though his decision was only minutes old.  
  
"Goodbye, Vaughn. I love you," she whispers, turning so that he doesn't see the tears that cascade from her eyes, turning so that she doesn't see his pain, though she feels it, as the tug at her heart increases as she moves further away.  
  
Suddenly she knows he's following her.  
  
"Syd! Wait!" he calls, though his pleas fall on deaf ears. She hesitates, though. She hesitates, before moving on. She wasn't going to wait, anymore. She was always waiting.  
  
Waiting, like it seemed she was forever destined to do, when it came to Michael Vaughn. 


End file.
